


Firsts

by going_going_gone



Category: Batman (Comics), Batman - All Media Types, Batman: The Animated Series
Genre: F/M, First Times, no not that kind of first time
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-09-26
Updated: 2014-09-26
Packaged: 2018-02-18 19:48:54
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,864
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2360102
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/going_going_gone/pseuds/going_going_gone
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A few of Harley's firsts.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Sight

The first time Harley saw the Joker wasn’t in some dim, damned corner of Arkham Asylum. The first time Harley saw the Joker she was sitting in front of the television munching on a bowl of popcorn. It was a Friday night, and her weekend spread out before her enticingly. But instead of going out with the girls, or catching a movie with that cute boy Rick in her algebra class, Harley was tuned into the news.

News of the Joker’s bank stand-off, which had started early that morning, had filtered through her school over the course of the day, exciting the students into frenzied inattention. She and her friends had professed their disinterest in the insane fugitive, sending dirty looks towards some of the green-haired freaks two tables away at lunch. Every school had a few weirdoes- serial killer groupies included- mixed in with the mundane. But for all their disdain, every single one of those girls was sitting at home, waiting impatiently for the Clown Prince of Crime to come on screen. None of them new they weren’t alone in their rubber-necking.

Unlike some of the other students, Harley had no doting, protective parents to keep Harley from watching. Her father was on one of his business trips, known better as three to five, with time off for good behavior, and her mother had picked up another shift at the diner. Her little brother was asleep.

Harley tried to excuse herself, assuring the empty room that she was only home because she had so much homework to do. The news was just a coincidence. This was, of course a lie, and one made less believable by the absence of books in the room with her. Further evidence she was lying came with the sound she made when the headline “JOKER LOCKED IN HOSTAGE SITUTATION WITH GCPD” scrolled across the screen. A small mug shot sat in the corner as the perfectly tanned, gelled, and dressed anchor warned “The following footage is graphic. Viewer discretion is advised,”

With this, Harley dropped all pretense, clutching the remote to her chest, eyes wide. The television switched scene, switching to shaky, raw footage, obviously taken by a hostage. It showed the inside of the bank, rows of mahogany counters gleaming under the overhead lights.

“Now now, dearie, stop your crying, will you?” a voice like velvet over steel cooed. The faint sobbing that had accompanied the video suddenly stopped. Harley wanted very much to see the source of those words.

Her wish was granted when he stepped into the frame. It suddenly felt like the world had fell away. Harley of course, was curious about this, wondering at the response, but she shouldn’t have been worried, the Joker had captivated more than half of Gotham in the past.

The shock of green hair was arranged in an extravagant, old fashioned pompadour, and his three piece suit, made in a shocking purple, was impeccable. His knife-wound smile was just as red as the papers described, skin paler than his pictures. But this was all detail. Part of a bigger picture it was terrifying.

She suspected his heavy pause was intentional- a break for the ordinary people so they could fully take in the sight of him. But, ever the showman, the Joker wasn’t silent for long.

“Hello, dear Gothamites!” he exclaimed. The camera started shaking violently, but a glare from the clown sent the picture stone still.

“It’s me, Uncle Joker here, and I’ve got a message for you! Since I’ve been, uh, detained in Gotham’s own Bank and Trust, some interesting developments have come about!”

Harley screwed up her eyes. What could he possibly be talking about?

“That’s right, folks, I’ve been distracting you. With the bats here, waiting and ready to spoil my good fun, he could hardly stop my henchmen from placing bombs- equipped with my hand-dandy Smile-Ex (patent pending), all around the city!”

He laughed with this reveal, probably picturing a sea of shocked faces. The clown wouldn’t have been wrong. Even Harley, fairly certain she’d be safe, considering she was perched in her family apartment in Brooklyn, was a little afraid. She had an aunt in Gotham.

“Now, my terms are simple. If, the dear, dear Dork Knight and his lovely pals in the GCPD would just _toddle_ on, allowing me to make my way back home, I won’t set of the bombs!” the Joker explained, as if he was making a very large sacrifice which, considering, was very likely.

Harley was still, waiting with bated breath. She knew they couldn’t just let the Joker go. There would be a nation-wide outcry. Even if it sent Gotham to its death, the rest of the country wouldn’t let the GCPD get away with it.

“Harley?” a voice barked, startling her out of her thoughts. She jumped, mind racing automatically to the Joker. That was ridiculous. The chance that she ever meet him were, well, slim to none, and she wouldn’t hate to keep it that way.

“What?” she asked, coming to the conclusion that there were no mass-murderers in her house.

“Where the hell’s your ma?”

Daddy came struggling in.

She gasped. “Dad, what are you doing here?”

“Looking for your damn mother!”

“Mom’s at work. I mean, what are you doing…out?”

“Good behavior. Really good behavior,” he replied nonchalantly. “Now what the hell are you watching?”

“News,” she answered sulkily. She knew that tone.

“No need to fill your head with news. You don’t use it for anything else.”

But Harley knew she did. She knew she was smarter than anyone in her whole family. She was gonna make something of her life, she was gonna be great.

“The Joker is on,” she explained, instead of arguing.

“Damn clown! Makes life hard for good, honest criminals like me,” her father grumped.

Harley laughed.The glare he sent her told her it hadn’t actually been a joke. It woulda been a nice joke.

The first time Harley saw the Joker, it wasn’t during the best year of her law-abiding life, when she was away from the toxic white-trash excuse of her family. The first time Harley saw the Joker was in an apartment that was too small, in a family that was too stupid to realize what they had.


	2. Song

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sing a little diddy.

The first time Harley heard the Joker sing wasn’t in some back alley safe house, while on one of their many sojourns into the ordinary world. The first time Harley heard the Joker sing was during one of their less sordid therapy sessions.

She’d been dancing around her feelings for months, confused and conflicted, worrying about her career, and waiting for a call- just one god damn call- from her mother. And the Joker- she’d taken to calling him J- had just known. Harley swore she was fine, hoping he’d see through her lie as easily as she told it. It was a familiar maneuver. She’d come home, stressed and insecure plenty as a kid, sighing loudly and looking as sad as possible, hoping someone, mom, dad, anyone would ask what was on her mind.

“What’s got you looking like a kicked puppy, my little Harley Quinn?” J asked. Harley wanted to melt.

“Oh, oh nothing,” came her clumsy reply.

“Don’t play dumb with me, Harley. You’re sad. Daddy can tell!”

Now, if she was any good as a psychiatrist, Harley might wonder at that. _Daddy_. The practice of referring to oneself as a parental figure to a significant, or a person calling their bedmate be a parent’s name, was widely scrutinized, but no two doctors could agree on just what it meant. There was the obvious incest fantasy, but Harley should know, her father was nothing like J. It was like comparing a chicken to a phoenix. There could be a dominance component, but analyzing made her head hurt, so she determined that she’d think about it later.

“Well, I’m just worried is all,” she confessed. “I love the time we spend together, but…but if we were caught- even if they only knew I let you out f your restraints, I could lose my job.”

“Obviously!” the Joker exclaimed. “But, my question, dear doctor, is _why_ you care.”

“I couldn’t help you! I- I wouldn’t see you!” Harley exclaimed. And she really did mean to help him. She fully intended to rehabilitate the Joker. Except, before it had seemed like a way to make it big. Now it was so they could settle down.

“Do you really think I’d stick around if they fired you, Harls?” he teased, giving her a winning grin. The skin on her face began burning, and Harley realized she was blushing. She seemed to do that a lot when he was around.

“We shouldn’t talk like that. You can’t keep treating Arkham like a motel, a pit stop before you get back to full health,” Harley admonished. It was partially selfish. She hated when he wasn’t there. She also hated weekends, and Tuesdays, anytime he was sent to solitary.

“Oh, don’t be so cross, Poo,” J responded, ignoring her request. “How can I tell my jokes to me cell? Gotham needs a little laughter.”

“No one laughs at your jokes,” Harley muttered.

“My dad said, _Be an actor, my son, but a comical one. They’ll be standing in lines for those old honky tonk monkeyshines_!” The Joker laughed.

Harley’s first, initial excitement- any mention of his past was reason to celebrate- died down when she realized that he’d been quoting something. What it was, she wasn’t sure. It sounded vaguely familiar

“Huh?” she prompted.

“Make ‘Em Laugh!” he exclaimed. “Oh, Harley, don’t tell me you’ve never seen Singin’ In The Rain!”

She shook her head. Harley hated old movies.

The Joker jumped up, free of his cuffs, as he always was, and broke out a smile. “You’re in for a treat, doll,” he assured her.

Harley smiled back, repressing a giggle so as to give him the floor.

“ _Though the world is so full of a number of things,_

_I know we should all be as happy as_

_But are we?_

_No, definitely no, positively no._

_Decidedly no. Mm, mm._

_Short people have long faces._

_Long people have short faces._

_Big people have little humor_

_And little people have no humor at all!_

_And in the words of that immortal buddy Samuel J Snodgrass,_

_as he was about to be lead to the guillotine:_

_Make ‘em laugh_

_Make ‘em laugh_

_Don’t you know everyone wants to laugh?_ ”

By the end Harley was breathless, leaning forward eyes wide. It hadn’t been a long performance, but it had been wild. The Joker was so expressive, so good at exuding confidence. It helped that he had the voice of an angel.

“Oh, Puddin’” she exclaimed, giving into applause.

The first time Harley heard the Joker sing, it wasn’t a half accident, walking in on a shower, scrambling to close the door again, and running the words through her head all day. The first time Harley heard the Joker sing the song was freely given. A gift, and that night, she went home and watched Singin’ In The Rain. Twice.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The song, obviously, is from "Singin' in The Rain." It's called "Make 'em Laugh". You should give it a listen.


End file.
